Don't You (Forget About Me)
by Hamliet
Summary: A brain, an athlete, a clown, a princess, and a criminal spend a day in detention together. Breakfast Club AU.
1. It'll Be Anarchy!

**Thanks for reading! This is an AU based on The Breakfast Club, my favorite movie. It's written for Kurokura week 2018, but also features copious Hisoillu because I can't write one ship without the other since I love them both so much. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 _I can't believe you can't get me out of this_.

Illumi watched the school come into view, a bland brick building that no one driving by would guesss hosted a prestigious prep curriculum. His family name was on the gymnasium. He understood why his parents wouldn't want to try to get him out of this, ostensibly anyways. They would want him to accept the consequences of his actions.

 _But I was just trying to help our family. They always say that's the priority._

But if they were letting him be subjected to an all-day Saturday detention, he must clearly have messed up enough to have disappointed them. But he didn't understand why, or how, and Mother was too busy yelling at Milluki to get up in time for school and coddling Kalluto to explain to him, and Father had a business trip. He just shook his head when he saw Illumi the day he came home with a note from the principal.

Father left that morning on his trip. Illumi was up at the same time. He thought Father would explain to him then. But instead Father just guzzled his own coffee, black like how Illumi always drank it too, and left without a word.

Clearly Illumi was making himself needy. He could figure it out on his own. He was the eldest Zoldyck son, even if not the most talented like Killua. He could think of why. He wasn't stupid. He wasn't a failure.

"Have a good day," Grandfather said, pulling up to the front of the building.

Illumi nodded, the response programmed into him. "Of course." He slipped out of the car, into the cold winter air. The February wind blew his hair across his face. He batted it away, making it to the library where he'd been told to report to.

There was that stupid jock, the one who was Killua's friend and whom Illumi couldn't stand, scowling at him. Next to the jock sat a boy with blond hair and puckered lips, as if he'd eaten a lemon. Another one of Killua's useless friends. _Both in detention_? Really, his brother needed better companions, or, more accurately, no companions at all like Illumi.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was why. He was supposed to figure out just how terrible these two wannabe-friends of Killua's were, so he could report to his parents and they could work out how to best protect Killua. That must be it.

In the back row sat a boy with a scarf wrapped over his well-known forehead tattoo. Not a surprise Chrollo Lucilfer was in detention, but definitely a surprise he had shown up. He had a stack of books higher than his chin next to him.

A slam. The balcony door. Illumi craned his neck, peering up. Bare-armed despite the frigid weather and smirking, Hisoka Morow dropped down the stairs, humming.

Illumi's eyebrows arched. _You showed up?_ That was even more surprising than Chrollo showing up. The class clown didn't play by rules. Rumor had it he was facing expulsion at one point, but the files mysteriously disappeared. But that was last semester.

The blond boy rolled his eyes at the sight of Hisoka, turning to his friend.

"Why hey," said Hisoka cheerfully, yanking out the chair next to Illumi. Golden heart-shaped earrings swung by Hisoka's jawline "Fancy seeing you here."

"Hello," said Illumi. "I—"

"Well, well," said the voice of their principal. "Here we are."

Illumi turned.

"I want to congratulate you all on being on time," beamed Pariston Hill. He surveyed them all like they were dolls he would use to play some sort of devious game. He pointed to the clock. "It is now 7:06. You have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes to think about why you're here. To ponder the error of your ways." He clasped his hands together.

"Excuse me?" said Hisoka, tilting the chair back. "Where did you get that suit? It sparkles and I personally think if they wanted us to take detention seriously, they would have sent someone else."

Pariston smiled. "You will not talk to each other. You will not get up." He wandered past Hisoka as if he hadn't talked. Hisoka's eyes sparked. Pariston stopped in front of Chrollo. "And you will not study."

"I believe that's the point of school," Hisoka pointed out.

"They aren't for a class," Chrollo stated, staring up at the principal and tossing his hair. "They're for pleasure."

Pariston reach down and scooped the books up. "Then I'll be confiscating these."

Chrollo's brows pinched together as if he was contemplating having the man eaten alive by fish.

"In the meantime," Pariston continued. "You will be writing an essay of no less than a thousand words, telling me who you think you are."

"Who do you think _you_ are?" asked Hisoka. "A sparkling banana?"

 _Why are you sitting next to me if you're going to be like this_? Illumi glared at him.

Pariston's smile turned into ice. "Maybe you'll learn a little something about yourself." He backed up. "My office is upstairs, but that doesn't matter, because I won't be watching you today. Vice-Principal Gyro's office is right across the hall, and he said to warn you that if you try any monkey business, he'll be after you." He gave a ceremonious bow.

"I have a question," said Hisoka. "What did Gyro do to you that you're siccing us on him? Do you want him to get fired that badly?"

"Commentary declined," said Pariston. He pointed back at Chrollo, who had untied the bandana covering his tattoo. "I'd put that on, unless you want Gyro to rage at you."

"I want Gyro to _try_ to rage at me," Chrollo stated, leaning forward on his elbow. He cocked his head as if challenging Pariston.

Pariston swept out of the room like a king. Illumi played with the ends of his hair. Silence elapsed. The blond drummed his pencil against his desk.

"Well," said Hisoka, leaning forward against the desk. "Since I presume we're not supposed to get up even to take a piss, well, then I guess I've got no choice but to—"

"Don't you dare," shot back the blonde. "That's disgusting."

Hisoka's lips curved into a smile. "Why are you even in here, Kurapika? I must say, I figured you for the goodiest of goody-two-shoes. Your other friend's, like, hot-tempered, so I can imagine why he's in here, but you?"

Kurapika's face flushed scarlet. Illumi glanced at Hisoka. Maybe they could find out why Kurapika was there. He'd have to. For his parents. For his brother. If Killua could understand why Illumi didn't want him to be friends with them, then he would understand that Illumi was only acting in his best interest. That it was because Illumi loved him.

Killua had laughed when Illumi stated that the night before. He slammed the door in Illumi's face. But if Illumi had evidence. If. It would all be okay.

Chrollo exhaled and jumped up, striding back towards the bookshelves.

"He said we're not supposed to get up, or are you deaf?" hollered the jock.

"Leorio," hissed Kurapika. "Don't talk to—"

"Oh, I see," said Hisoka. "Chrollo's on your shit list. Figures. We all know he's a criminal."

"A criminal borrowing books from the library," Chrollo commented sarcastically. He tugged his coat tighter around him.

"Can't we just work on our papers?" Kurapika complained, twirling his pencil.

"Can't _you_ , without worrying what everyone else is doing?" Chrollo shot back. "Oh yes, I forgot. The high and mighty Kurapika makes decisions for us all."

Well, there was clearly some history there. Illumi arched his brows.

"Will you be writing your paper, Illumi?" asked Hisoka, leaning against his own bicep, studying Illumi with eyes as golden as his earrings. "Do you do what they tell you to do? All the time?"

"Not hardly," said Illumi. "Only my parents. I don't care about the shitheads who run this school."

Hisoka blinked. "Huh?"

Would his parents want him to write this essay? No, they'd surely prefer him to get information on Kurapika and Leorio, right? Illumi pushed his chair back and sat up on the desk behind it, feet resting on the seat of the chair. If he could talk to Chrollo—

"Cool," said Hisoka, leaning back and kicking his legs up.

"Are you wearing heels?" Illumi asked.

"Like them?"

"You'll trip and break your face."

"My face has survived enough fights; I'm not about to worry about heels." Hisoka snickered. He was wearing his typical absurd makeup, a star and a teardrop on his cheeks. "So how come your parents couldn't get you out of this one?"

Illumi stiffened. "Presumably they had something for me to learn."

"Really? I thought your daddy had a business trip."

"It's not related."

"But are you really sure?" Hisoka smirked up at him.

"Shut up," Illumi said. "They want what's best for me, so I have to trust that being here is—"

"Do they?" asked Hisoka. "Do they _really_ , Illumi? Because I've only ever seen your parents fawning over Killua. He's your friend, right, Kurapika, Leorio?"

"Don't talk to me," Kurapika responded, not even glancing in their direction.

"His IQ is the highest," Illumi stated, blinking. "Of course he gets the most attention; he has the most potential—"

"So your parents are really into eugenics, huh? Evaluating your worth based on your IQ? I'll tell you a secret. Mine's 172."

" _Mine_ is 172," Illumi stammered.

"Exactly," said Hisoka. "That's not mine. I've never been tested. I just saw the results in your records when I got bored enough to go through them one day. You know there's a whole basement archive? But it makes you interesting. You've certainly got potential."

Illumi scowled. Red-hot fury shot through him, that Hisoka had tricked him like that, and also something cooler: _you think I'm interesting because of my IQ?_

 _You think I'm interesting? And have potential?_

 _For what?_

* * *

As if it wasn't bad enough Kurapika had to spend the day with someone he absolutely hated, the fact that Hisoka was here and seemed to be relishing making them all uncomfortable had him ready to punch someone. He clenched his jaw so tightly it throbbed.

He stared down at the sheet of paper in front of him. He'd written a grand total of one word. Out of one thousand. One letter, really.

 _I._

"So now that we all know your IQ score," Hisoka was saying to Illumi. "Why don't you tell us something else? Like, are you a virgin?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" demanded Leorio. Kurapika ignored them, focusing on the paper so much that the white began to blur into color. He was not going to help Killua's shitty older brother.

"It's just a question," Hisoka replied. "I am curious. Who here has had sex? I'm going to guess that, based on the fact that I caught you jerking off in the locker room a month ago, you definitely aren't getting any action, Paladiknight. And Kurta, you're definitely no better: I mean, look at you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kurapika snapped. He set his pencil down with a clatter.

"Does that mean I'm wrong?" Hisoka blinked innocently.

Kurapika's mouth closed. "We're all what, sixteen, seventeen? That's pretty young to be having sex, don't you think?"

"I think you're a grandpa and you dress like one, too."

"Go to hell."

"Hell's rejected me." Hisoka tilted his neck back. "Chrollo, you're no virgin. You like taking shirtless photos too much."

Chrollo approached his desk again, carrying a new pile of books. He rolled his eyes but didn't answer.

Of course Chrollo would be that kind of narcissist. Kurapika scowled.

"You're the only one I can't figure out," Hisoka said to Illumi. "Basically school royalty, yet sentenced to the dungeons of detention on a Saturday."

"Whether or not I am getting any action does not concern you," Illumi responded, plucking a piece of lint off his pants.

"Could you all shut up, before we get in more trouble?" Kurapika demanded.

Chrollo grabbed his books, flipping them open.

"And could you not?" Kurapika asked, heart pounding because Chrollo, like Hisoka, seemed to be almost daring them to all get in trouble. Because of course he cared about no one but himself and the fact that Gyro was known for his unreasonableness was probably just extra fun to the likes of Chrollo. "If Gyro sees—"

"I don't particularly care," Chrollo responded, flipping through the pages as if he was relaxing on a lawn chair, a summer breeze fluttering through the air around him. He rubbed his jaw.

"What's going on in there?" yelled Gyro's cranky voice.

"Nothing!" Leorio called. He cringed. Kurapika jumped. Gyro had threatened him when he gave him the detention. _"I bet your parents are rolling over in their graves, ashamed of you."_

"Do you two have a history?" Hisoka asked.

Silence.

"I _said_ , do you two have a history?"

"Huh?" Kurapika turned. Hisoka was gesturing to him and Chrollo. "It's none of your concern, clown." They hadn't even known each other before the past week. Well, Kurapika had known _of_ Chrollo: known that he was a well known thief, known that he ran a group that called themselves the Phantom Troupe like they were a group of edgelord Edgar Allen Poe stans, and known that he was rumored to have been arrested once before. And Chrollo shared his literature class, but they'd never spoken. Kurapika sat in the front and Chrollo in the back.

"I see," said Hisoka. "So you guys fucked?"

"Please drop dead," requested Chrollo.

"Excuse me?" shrieked Kurapika.

"Kurapika, keep it down!" hissed Leorio.

Hisoka held his hands up. "I mean, you've both got nice faces, despite the trash fashion."

"Like you're one to talk," Leorio retorted, eyeing Hisoka's clown outfit.

"He's just trying to get into your pants," said Chrollo. "Ignore him."

Kurapika's face burned when he realized Chrollo was talking to him. "I don't need you to tell me that kind of thing, asshole!"

"My, my," said Hisoka. "Is that where he likes it?"

"Back off," said Chrollo.

Kurapika wanted to dissolve in humiliation. "Eat shit. Both of you."

"You really seem to hate him, don't you? Well, they do say hate and love are two sides of the same coin."

Kurapika turned to Leorio in desperation.

"Hisoka," Illumi cut in.

"Oh, you shut up," said Kurapika. "No one wants _your_ help."

Illumi scowled as if contemplating stabbing Kurapika.

Chrollo flipped a page in his book.

"What on earth could possible be worth—" Hisoka started.

"Are _you_ two a thing?" Kurapika cut in. Hisoka stopped for a moment, seemingly surprised Kurapika would go there. "I mean. I know you used to be part of the Phantom Troupe."

"Fake, really," said Hisoka. He hopped up from his chair. "I faked being a member because apparently to be an actual member you need to, like, really commit, which I don't do. All right, story time, kids. Chrollo, close your book."

"I've had plot twist spoiled for me," Chrollo replied bitterly.

"Well, see, the thing is, I joined the Phantom Troupe, but only because I wanted to learn their secrets," Hisoka said. "I'd sell them to you for a single corn chip. But Chrollo here is far less interested in a life of crime than you'd think _and_ less interested in the straight and narrow than you'd think."

Chrollo tilted his book up to block his face, tilting back in his seat. Kurapika's brow furrowed.

"Once he figured out I was more interested in using his group for my own means—namely, getting out of class and learning how to fight like a street kid, he may have set me up to take the fall for our robbery of Pariston's office. Too bad burning the relevant security tapes so I didn't get expelled was a bit too little, too late," said Hisoka. "And let's be real, you only did that because you're a coward who knew I would sell your friends out. I had no plans to rat on you, of course. Because you're the kind of person who has no value for himself, but a lot of value for the people you like. Your friends suffering for you would have been so much fun to see, and—"

"It didn't happen; so what?" Kurapika interrupted. "Or are you actually as immature as you—"

"Bring up my friends again," said Chrollo, setting his book down with a thud. His voice simmered with quiet fury. "And I will end you."

"Ooh, I'm scared," Hisoka taunted.

"You should be." Chrollo got to his feet. He was shorter than Hisoka, but no less intimidating a presence. Like a thundercloud. Kurapika hesitated.

"Are you actually going to try to fight right now?" sputtered Leorio. "You can't! You're—"

"Say _can't_ again and he definitely will," Illumi commented, swinging his leg as he watched Hisoka and Chrollo glare at each other.

"You're just a giant softie," Hisoka said.

"No one would care if you were dead," Chrollo responded, eyes flashing. "Because you already basically are. All this—ranting and teasing and flailing—it's the last gasps and thrashes of a dying man, hoping someone will notice he's drowning before he slips under and no one even remembers his name."

"Poetic," muttered Leorio. Kurapika's blood ran cold.

Hisoka's face whitened. And then he swung.

 _"Stop it!"_ Kurapika wasn't sure who shouted first, himself or Illumi, but the next thing he knew he'd kicked away his chair and lunged at the brawling duo.

Chrollo struggled. Kurapika's arms clasped around his waist. Chrollo broke away. Illumi yanked Hisoka back, arm around Hisoka's neck in a chokehold. Kurapika shoved Chrollo back, hands on his chest to hold him.

"Let me—"

"Knock it the fuck _off!"_ Kurapika yelled. Chrollo tried to push past him. His arm shot out, pinning Chrollo back against a row of tables. Chrollo gaped down at him, panting, hair dangling over his tattoo and his stupid globe earrings. "You wanna wind up in prison?"

He remembered what Pariston had taunted the other day, before they were sentenced to this all-day detention. _One more strike and you'll wind up alone and in prison. I know you're on probation._

Chrollo's eyes narrowed. He jerked away. "Like you'd care." He glanced at him.

Okay, granted Kurapika _had_ thought _it'll happen sooner rather than later, if I'm lucky,_ that day. "I don't care," Kurapika retorted. "I just don't want to be dragged down with you."

Chrollo gaped at him.

"What?"

"Your eyes," said Chrollo.

Kurapika's hands flew up towards his sockets. _Dammit!_ He was supposed to control himself so that people wouldn't see that they turned scarlet when he felt a strong emotion. He ducked his head to hide them.

"So the rumors are true," Illumi said. "Kurta eyes."

Kurapika flipped him off.

"Better sleep with one eye open," Hisoka eked out, face almost blue from Illumi's chokehold. "Can I not die right now? Thank you."

Illumi released him. Hisoka coughed. "And hey, never would have thought you capable of kicking Lucilfer's ass, Kurapika."

"He did not touch my ass," Chrollo said.

"Shame."

Leorio moaned, head in his hands.

"What the hell is going on in there?" roared Gyro's voice.

"Shit!" Hisoka ducked down in a seat next to Illumi. Kurapika's spine stiffened. _This is where I belong. This fucking room of miserable people, because that's how hopeless I am as a person._

 _I'm a failure. I'm a complete and utter failure._ He swallowed hard, hanging his head.

Gyro marched in, eyeing them all with his dark gaze. He turned to leave, and then hesitated. He marched over to yank the books of Chrollo's desk.

"If you didn't want me reading, having it in the library was a poor decision on your part," Chrollo informed him.

 _Fuck_.

"Great," said Gyro. "That's next Saturday."

"I'm busy."

"That's the next!"

"For reading? You're punishing kids for reading now?"

"And the next!" Gyro turned.

"Why are you even here and not torturing people? Drug business ran out?"

"That's the next two!"

Kurapika could see the pulse pounding in Chrollo's throat. "Or were you as shitty at running a drug ring as running this school?"

"Cut it _out!"_ Kurapika shouted. Chrollo gaped at him.

"I'll have you every Saturday until the end of the semester," Gyro said, sneering. He stepped closer, towering over Chrollo. "You can't escape me, Lucilfer."

"I only show up when I want to anyways," Chrollo muttered.

 _Why would you ever want to? To read?_ Kurapika didn't understand. There were plenty of libraries around.

"Watch it, you Meteor City trash," Gyro mumbled as he left.

Meteor City. The next town over, the dump, as it was known. Kurapika glanced at Chrollo. _You really come from there? How'd you get into a prep school, then?_

Chrollo got to his feet and stomped back over to the bookshelves to restock.


	2. What's Your Poison?

Chrollo seemed to be setting himself up as Gyro's enemy for the day. How disappointing. If he'd picked Hisoka, Hisoka would have expected a far more interesting day ahead. But Gyro was unlikely to switch his sights from Chrollo now, considering they were both from Meteor City and everyone from that place seemed to have the attitude of "no one else can pick on you for it, but I'll destroy you for it."

 _Fuck_. Hisoka bit down on his fingernail. "He seems to have a bit of self-hatred, don't you think, Chrollo?"

"You are never going to shut up, are you?" complained Kurapika, turning to him.

"Mad I'm talking to your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend, shithead!"

Chrollo lifted his book to cover his face again. Hisoka scowled. "You live near him in Meteor City?"

Chrollo set the book down with a thud. "Stop talking about Meteor City. You aren't from there; you don't get to bring it up."

"Are you really from there?" asked Leorio.

Chrollo shrugged. "Yes, and I'm proud of it."

"I wouldn't be," said Illumi. "I've heard all sorts of rumors."

"You do seem the sort to believe anything told to you," Hisoka said.

"Careful," Illumi warned, gaze hardening. "I'm the only one here who doesn't currently want to subject you to _Lord of the Flies_ treatment."

 _A literature reference. So you're looking for Chrollo's approval. Any approval you can get. I doubt you even realize it, though_. Still, Hisoka hadn't expected Illumi to challenge him.

"Yes," said Chrollo. "I'm from Meteor City. I like in an apartment with my friends. It's not like social services gives a fuck."

"Uvogin must rent it," said Hisoka. He'd graduated the year before. "I'm guessing your stealing is to pay for rent, though."

Chrollo folded his arms.

"Let's take a wild guess here," said Hisoka. "Leorio, I know your parents are like, doctors. Must be proud of you, though not so much for your Saturday achievement here. Illumi's parents are overlords of the entire town and I don't just mean financially. Kurapika, your home life must be simply sweet, right? Bet you're really close with your parents."

Kurapika's eyes glimmered. Hisoka leaned forward. Were they going to flash scarlet again? "They died last year. I live with my cousin."

 _Oh shit._ He hadn't expected to hear that.

"Can you stop asking questions and upsetting people now?" Chrollo requested.

Hisoka felt crestfallen. "So you're not wondering about _my_ home life?"

"Did Bozo fuck Pennywise to produce you?" Kurapika retorted.

Hisoka snorted. He guessed he deserved it after making the boy talk about his dead parents. "Actually, it's more like your situation fucked Chrollo's situation. I don't know if my parents are dead or alive. I never met them. I have foster parents, but honestly I'm not home enough to remember where they live."

"You're full of shit," said Kurapika. "Then why would you be _here_?"

"It's cold out and I wanted a place to sleep?"

"Then why are you torturing all of us instead of sleeping?"

Chrollo yawned, flipping through his book again. Hisoka slid his eyes towards Illumi, who studied him. "Well, fine. Don't believe me. It's not like society gives a shit about kids who were never wanted in the first place; you're all upstanding citizens."

"Oh, come off your pity party," Kurapika snapped. Chrollo set the book down.

"I'd at least guess your mom was the type to tuck you in every night before she died," Hisoka said. Kurapika's eyes definitely looked redder. "But it's really not so bad. I find lots of people to sleep with. In the active sense and then the literal sense. Free beds and someone to keep you warm."

"Are you crazy?" demanded Leorio.

"Obviously," mumbled Chrollo.

"It's also fun," Hisoka said. "And hey, at least someone wants me."

"They don't want you," Illumi said. "They just want sex."

"Not all of us have the luxury of being picky, Zoldyck." Hot irritation prickled under his skin. "Though I suppose I shouldn't have characterized your home as a luxury. I've seen those bruises on your arms."

"It's nothing I don't deserve."

Shit, Hisoka hadn't expected Illumi to just cop to it. Chrollo, Kurapika, and Leorio all swiveled to look at him.

"It's training," said Illumi. "Spare the rod and spoil the child. They are making me the best I can be, and I'm grateful."

"Right," said Hisoka, struggling not to gape. "That's why they beat you."

"Is that why you beat Killua?" Leorio interrupted. "Because I'm well aware of that."

Illumi blinked. "It's expected. If I don't, Dad will. And he'll be harsher. I only want Killua to—"

"Jesus _Christ_ ," Hisoka said. He reached out, palm against Illumi's throat.

Illumi jerked back. "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see that you have a pulse and are actually alive. That sounds like something a robot would say. Or a puppet."

Illumi's brow furrowed. "I am clearly a person. I am sitting here, talking to you."

"What about Alluka?" Leorio cut in. "Killua said your mom locks her up."

"Alluka is a boy."

"Alluka is transgender," retorted Kurapika.

"Rude of you, Illumi," Hisoka said with a scowl.

"Fine," said Illumi. "My parents won't like calling her that, though. They don't really like any of us talking to her. She's mentally ill. Killua loves her, though. Kalluto—"

"Are these parents or jail wardens?" Hisoka demanded.

"Shut up!"

"The beds of strangers are definitely preferable," Hisoka declared.

"You'd really sleep with a stranger?" asked Kurapika.

"Yeah? It feels good." Hisoka shrugged. Well, mostly. And it was at least something that made him feel blood running through his veins, feel each breath harsh in his throat, feel sweat on the back of his neck and know that he was capable of something.

"You need help."

"None of you are any better," Hisoka taunted. "Except Leorio. Good job developing productive, healthy coping mechanisms, dude."

Leorio moaned into his hands.

"Anyways," said Hisoka. "I'm getting out of here. Who wants to come on an adventure?"

"On a what? You're what?" eked out Leorio.

"You hold down the fort," said Hisoka. "Although if Gyro comes in here while we're all gone, I'm sure he won't be very happy with you either. But I have something fun for all of us in my locker."

"I'm not letting you smoke pot in here," snapped Leorio.

Hisoka held his hands up, getting to his feet. He moonwalked backwards. Illumi hesitated, and then got to his feet. Chrollo swore and set his book down. Hisoka smirked. He looked back at the two pretending to be good. Well, one pretending to be good, one weirdly, actually, probably, good.

Kurapika got to his feet, casting Leorio a guilty look. Leorio rolled his eyes.

Hisoka checked that the coast was clear before ducking down the hallway. The others followed. Hisoka made his way to his locker, heels clacking on the linoleum floor. Illumi made no sound when he walked, like an assassin. Chrollo's boots made soft thuds, and Kurapika's slippers were almost as quiet as Illumi's.

He found his locker and yanked it open. "Nothing worth stealing, I assure you, Lucilfer."

"Wasn't contemplating it," Chrollo responded. Kurapika glowered at him.

Hisoka fumbled through the mess that was piled in his locker, including a change of clothes, cologne, an empty plastic coffee cup, and more. He searched for what he wanted, shoving a box of condoms at Kurapika. "Hold this."

"No!" Kurapika squeaked when he realized what it was. "That's disgusting—"

"Found it," Hisoka said, pulling what he'd been looking for off the top shelf. A giant pack of Bungee Gum, his favorite candy, and a package of Texture Surprise.

"That's not anything illegal," Kurapika noted.

"Disappointed?"

"No, I—"

"Who even eats Bungee Gum?" Chrollo asked.

"I do, because it's delicious and if you chew it even after it's lost its flavor, you don't think about how hungry you are," Hisoka responded. "Besides, we can use Texture Surprise to make fake dildos or at the very least do something other than contemplate writing an essay none of us actually plan to write."

"I plan to," Kurapika declared.

Chrollo mumbled something about being _better than everyone else_ again.

Illumi studied Hisoka.

A whistle cut through the air. They all stiffened.

 _Fuck!_ Gyro or Pariston must be heading this way.

"I'm going to fucking kill you," Chrollo declared.

"You chose to follow me!" Hisoka hissed back.

"Go!" Illumi shoved them all. They raced down the hallway, only to hear Pariston's jovial voice. "Shit!" They doubled back.

"You go that way," said Chrollo, gesturing to the left. "I'll distract them." He turned towards the right.

"Like hell you will!" snarled Kurapika, charging after him like he would rather be damned to hell than have Chrollo take the fall for him.

Hisoka and Illumi exchanged a glance. They both ran towards the left. Hisoka grabbed Illumi, slamming him back against the wall when the sound of the janitor's cart squeaked against the floor.

"Is all that stuff true?" Illumi whispered.

"Huh?" Hisoka glanced at him.

"About where you live. About Bungee Gum."

"Made me stronger than ever and talented at sex," Hisoka confirmed with a wink. He checked around the corner. Illumi darted after him.

"My parents are the same. They made me strong and smarter, for helping with the business."

"The fuck?" Hisoka stared at Illumi. "It's not the same. Your parents are total dicks and you're too naive to see it."

Illumi's eyes sparked in rage. Man, he would love to see that more. Illumi's eyes looked more alive than Kurapika's when he was pissed. Illumi clearly had fighting talent, in that he'd restrained Hisoka earlier that day, and if he ever got to see more of that—well, that'd be an experience he'd have to savor. "And people are taking advantage of you, too. You know that, right?"

"And I'm taking advantage of their roof and bed," Hisoka replied. "And it feels good, so why does it matter?"

"I hope you actually use those condoms."

"Stop acting like a doctor; you're annoying me. I'll punch you one of these days. Or hours."

"Looking forward to it," replied Illumi as they ducked back into the library.

* * *

"Slow down, you fucking idiot!"

Chrollo skidded to a halt. He couldn't believe this blond bastard was chasing after him. Or really, he could, and was annoyed with himself for being surprised. His heart beat faster. Kurapika would never let someone else sacrifice something when he could bleed instead. Why did he have to be so difficult? "Yes?"

"Are you going to get caught? Because Gyro already hates you—"

Chrollo held a finger up to Kurapika's face. He could feel the boy's breath warming his skin. "Only half as much as you hate me, remember?"

"I remember," Kurapika said darkly. His red earring swung beside his jaw. The red was a brilliant hue, but not nearly as striking as his eyes. He only had one now, of course, and probably wore it today directly to remind Chrollo what he stole.

Chrollo studied him, and then turned on his heel and stalked off. Sure enough, Kurapika followed. "You just want to pretend you're better than everyone else."

"I do not! I am not!"

"You aren't, and you know it, but you think you should be," Chrollo said, hesitating and listening for the whistling. To the left. He ducked towards it.

Kurapika rolled his eyes. "You barely know me; what makes you—"

"I barely know you," said Chrollo, pausing at looking at him. "But I know your type. Well." He headed towards the cafeteria.

Kurapika winced, face reddening as he realized he was still carrying Hisoka's box of condoms. Chrollo smirked. He doubted Kurapika had ever used one in his life. "Well, I know _your_ type."

"And what is that?" Chrollo snapped. Part of him wanted a concrete answer. He had no idea. Leader? To his troupe. Bookworm, to himself, and good student, Meteor City trash, and yet he felt like he still couldn't see himself except in a clouded mirror that distorted his reflection.

"Arrogant prick who thinks himself about others and damn how others feel—"

"Oh, so you mean y _ou?"_

"I'm not—"

"It's the same—"

Chrollo whirled around, half intending to kick the other boy. But he stopped.

"What?" Kurapika snapped.

"Your eyes," Chrollo said, mesmerized again. The glowed a fiery crimson, like blood and like rubies, like fire and like sunset.

Kurapika covered his eyes.

"Why do you hide them?" Chrollo asked.

"What?" Kurapika recoiled. "Because—they say—"

"So you always do what you're told?"

"No! Just—they're—they could be a danger—my parents were murdered because of—I used to get made fun of for—people call us monsters—people wanted to steal my parents' eyes—" Kurapika stopped.

"Shit," Chrollo breathed. His blood felt like ice. _Murdered_?

"Don't bring that up," Kurapika insisted. His eyes glowed even brighter.

 _You love them, don't you? Your eyes are deepening because of it_. "Your eyes are beautiful," Chrollo said.

"Huh?" Kurapika gaped at him. "Wh—why would you say that? It doesn't make any sense; I hate you and you hate me—"

 _That's not true!_ "I never said I hated you; I've only said that your hostility is annoying."

"You haven't said those exact words."

"Your hostility and pettiness are annoying."

Kurapika snorted.

"I can't hate anything beautiful," Chrollo remarked. He watched Kurapika's face for his reaction.

"I'm not a _thing_ ," Kurapika snapped. "I'm a person. That's exactly the attitude that got my parents killed. And you—you said you steal, but do you ever think about who you're stealing from and what they're dealing with, how hard you're making their life?"

Could he try to explain now? Make Kurapika see? Make himself see and understand? "My life is—"

"Hard, so why do you have to make the world even harder instead of trying to—"

 _For God's sake!_ "Why do you have to talk down to me?" Chrollo snapped. "I'm a person, not a thing!"

Kurapika blanched.

"Who's down there?" bellowed Gyro's voice.

 _Shit_. Chrollo backed up. "Get back to the library. I'll meet you there."

"No fucking—"

"Go! Please." Chrollo slammed his hands against the lockers as he ran, ensuring Gyro would follow him and leave the others alone. Kurapika appeared to have listened. Huh. Maybe he was really serious about trying to follow the rules, more serious than Chrollo assumed him to be in his obvious hypocrisy. How interesting.

 _You have such a chance. Don't let your hypocrisy swallow you whole, little scarlet eyed kid._

"You little—" Gyro's hands snaked out, grasping Chrollo's shoulder. He threw him back against the wall.

Chrollo's head smacked against the plaster. For a moment he saw stars. He couldn't let it faze him. He wanted to see how far Gyro would go, how far he could go. "Escalating to physical violence, now? Isn't that prohibited by law?"

In truth, he and Gyro had crossed paths since he was in elementary school, when he was wreaking havoc in Meteor City despite being on the best track for a scholarship to this school. And Gyro had hated him ever since. And Chrollo had been fascinated by him ever since. A man who escaped Meteor City, but could never remotely be free of it. Why, and how? Who did Gyro think he was? Was it remotely similar to how Chrollo saw himself? What was that, anyway?

"Come with me," Gyro ordered, face darkening.

Chrollo obeyed, if only because he was curious. Gyro marched him back to the library, flinging open the door. Chrollo exhaled when he saw Kurapika sitting in his seat next to Leorio, a guilty look pinching his features. Hisoka even winced, which felt like salt in a wound Chrollo didn't know he had.

"Get your things," Gyro ordered.

"Huh?" Chrollo stared.

"Get your things!"

Chrollo's hands flew up. He moonwalked towards the table and grabbed the books.

"Not those!" Gyro lunged, ripping them out of his hands. Kurapika rose halfway out of his seat.

"But I didn't bring a backpack," Chrollo said. "Got nothing else. Meteor City, remember?"

Gyro's eyes narrowed. Hisoka snorted.

"You think he's funny?" Gyro asked. "You think this is something to laugh at? I'll give you something to laugh at. Go visit Chrollo Lucilfer in ten years. He'll be sitting in a prison alone."

"I'd escape," Chrollo said, careful to sound bored. He could still feel Kurapika watching him and didn't want to seem flustered.

"He's too hot to be alone," Hisoka replied. "Even I know that."

"A prostitute in prison? Seems appropriate that he'll die of AIDS there," said Gyro.

Chrollo stiffened. He knew there was an AIDS crisis in Meteor City. He often wondered if that was what happened to his mother, but he'd never know for sure.

"Isn't that sexual harassment, sir?" asked Kurapika.

"Shut up, Kurta." Gyro jabbed his finger at Chrollo. "None of your family, none of your friends, will have any memory of you, Lucilfer. No one will care about you. You will be forgotten. It's the destiny of everyone from Meteor City, but especially trash like the likes of you. You're even more putrid for not even trying."

Illumi's jaw dropped.

"That isn't true. My friends will remember me. Or at the very least what I taught them," said Chrollo. "That's more important."

Gyro threw his head back and laughed. "No, they won't. You want to be remembered yourself, but the only reason you say you don't is because you know it won't happen. You know you're trash, and you know you don't deserve any space in your friends' memories. You deserve to be forgotten. Where are they today? Why aren't they here breaking you out? Why did you even come here today, when you usually don't show up to Saturday detentions unless it's to break one of your friends out? They don't give a damn about you or your message. You have no way to fight that: it's your fate, it's been your fate since you were born to a pathetic whore most likely, and you can't fight it!"

 _Fuck you_! Chrollo felt Kurapika's eyes on him. His face burned. "Maybe I'll live on in Kurapika's hateful memories," he heard himself say.

"Really?" muttered Kurapika.

"May I inquire as to where we send charity checks for your therapy bills, Mr. Gyro?" requested Hisoka.

Gyro looked as if he was about to explode. "Come with me, Lucilfer."

"I'm coming." Chrollo sauntered towards him even though his spine felt held together by rusted screws. _Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!_ He glanced back at the rest of them as Gyro shoved him out of the room. Illumi's jaw hung open.

It wasn't true. He knew it.

It was just words. Sticks and stones to break his bones, but words could never hurt.

Words didn't matter.

 _Then why does your legacy have a chance with your friends? What are you, what are books, except words?_

Gyro pushed open a door down the hallway. A custodial closet. He gestured. "Get in."

Chrollo rolled his eyes, sitting on the floor. He fought a scowl.

"You think you're a hot shit, don't you?" Gyro snarled. "Well, you're not. You're a piece of shit, that's what you are. That's what everyone from Meteor City is."

"Is this you speaking in your experience, or you with daddy issues after your dad revealed he hated you as a kid? The story still lives in infamy, even in a place like that," Chrollo taunted. His voice shook.

"Listen to me," Gyro said. "You're worthless. Everyone in this place knows it. You have a scholarship, okay, but it's not going to last long if I have anything to say about it. You and I both know you have no interest in making your life better, in climbing out of the bowels of that trash dump like I did. Because I have brains and you have nothing but your friends who are just using you like you're using them to feel like your pathetic life has some kind of meaning. It doesn't."

Chrollo thought of Machi and Feitan and Phinks, of all their times running the street together, sleeping on Uvogin's floor, drinking cheap beer and laughing, of Feitan stealing him a rare copy of _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_. Books lasted. So couldn't he, right? Couldn't he? "Think what you want."

"Yeah?" Gyro crouched, bringing his face threateningly close to Chrollo's. His breath smelled of sauerkraut and horseradish. "I'll see that you know it some day, too, if it's the last thing that I do. You're nothing more than a piece of shit, and you're worthless, and you know it too. That's why you do what you do." Gyro got to his feet, backing up. "Coward." He slammed the door. The lock clicked.

Chrollo just gaped after him. _You are—_

 _You never did leave Meteor City. You're still—even now—just like that—_

 _You are what I will become. And Hisoka will wind up in jail and Illumi will be his father and Leorio will be a doctor and Kurapika will be a teacher here until he dies young from stress. There's no hope._

 _Fuck you. Fuck you anyways. Fuck you._

He tilted his head up. The lights glared down at him, and so did the weak tiles. Chrollo got to his feet, leaping onto the random bureau. It only took him five or so minutes to crawl through the tiled ceiling on his way back to the library, like he was some kind of action hero in a shonen manga.

The tiles gave way underneath him. He tumbled. His elbow slammed into the ground. Powder filled his nose. The tile shattered underneath him. The carpet burned his knees, having scraped them.

"Holy shit!" shrieked Leorio's voice.

Chrollo coughed, shoving the broken tile off himself and wiping damn white dust from his coat. He got to his feet. Even Hisoka was nodding as if impressed.

"Are you crazy?" exclaimed Kurapika.

"The hell is going on in there?" bellowed Gyro's voice.

"Shit!" Chrollo shoved the tiles behind one of the tables. Kurapika rolled his eyes. Chrollo ducked down, crawling into the space between Kurapika and Leorio. Footsteps echoed. Chrollo tried to stifle his breaths.

Kurapika had nice legs, clad in white pants.

 _Well, this is your chance, Kurta. Want me to go down, or not?_

 _We're the same_.

"What the hell was that ruckus?" Gyro bellowed. Chrollo's shoulder ached.

"Could you describe the ruckus, sir?" Illumi asked.

"You watch your tongue, Zoldyck!"

Now his neck was pinching and spasming. He twisted. His cheekbone bumped into Kurapika's knee. Kurapika jabbed his knee out, colliding with Chrollo's nose. He grunted.

"What was that?"

Hacking echoed. Kurapika and Leorio both. "A cold," Kurapika eked out. "Got no throat lozenges." He stepped on Chrollo's fingers.

 _Motherfucker!_ Chrollo bit the inside of his mouth to keep from screaming.

"Watch it," Gyro warned again. Footsteps sounded as if they were heading towards the door. The door slammed.

 _Fuck._ Chrollo blew out his breath. "Why did you step on me?"

"A Freudian move, really," Hisoka mused.

"Shut up!" Kurapika bellowed. "Because you bumped into me!"

"It wasn't on purpose!" Chrollo crawled out from under the desk. His nose was dripping blood. He leaned back against the tables behind him. "Did you have to break it?"

"I didn't break it," Kurapika insisted.

"He didn't," Illumi said. "There'd have to be more force and it doesn't look swollen—"

"I didn't ask for science," Chrollo mumbled, closing his eyes and using his sleeve to wipe the blood away.

"So," said Hisoka. "Now that we're all together again. Bungee Gum time?"


	3. Well You're a Liar, Too

"It's not bad," Illumi commented. The flavor was a bit too sweet, like a pink explosion in his mouth. The sugar would definitely rot his teeth if left too long.

"Not _bad?"_ Hisoka cried out, offended. He blew out a huge bubble as if to stick it to Illumi.

"I like it," commented Kurapika, cross-legged against the railing. The five of them had retreated to the library's upper levels. Chrollo leaned back against bookshelves and Leorio sprawled on the carpet. Illumi still sat primly, knees tucked up against his chest.

"He doesn't like anything fun, remember?" Leorio's voice held a threat. He definitely was thinking of why he was in detention that day, and blaming Illumi. Simply because he didn't understand, and how could he? He wasn't a Zoldyck.

Illumi ignored him continuing to chew. Hisoka pulled out a wad of texture surprise, moving the putty into the shape of a dick.

"Are you constantly turned on or something," Kurapika mumbled. "Because if so maybe you should see a doctor."

"He should see a shrink anyways," opined Chrollo, stretching his legs out in front of him. Kurapika snickered as Hisoka winked.

He calmly rolled balls to add to his sculpture. Illumi contemplating crushing it, just to see how Hisoka would react. "I'm not that lucky, Kurta," Hisoka proclaimed. "Life isn't so exciting, but that's ground I believe we have already covered."

"So how are you getting a scholarship, then?" Kurapika asked, head lolling backwards as he lay back on the floor. "I'm curious."

"I'm not. My foster parents are paying for it. I think." Hisoka's bubblegum burst, sticking to his face. Illumi wrinkled his nose. Ew. "But they're just doing it because I've always done well, when I felt like sticking in school. They probably think they can pat themselves on the back for that, but I doubt they care that I never come back to their place."

"I can't imagine people not wanting to know where you are every second of the day," Illumi commented. He studied Hisoka. "My parents might as well have a tracker attached. They always want to know where we are. Killua's been breaking that rule lately, so they've been worried." He slid his gaze to Kurapika and Leorio, who both looked at him with something like sympathy. _Huh?_ He didn't understand. "Because they love me. They want me to be safe," he explained.

"I'm hardly one to talk about parental love," said Hisoka. "But, Illumi: no."

"They do," Illumi insisted. "It teaches us discipline."

"Please, don't bring up discipline," Leorio cut in, and for a moment Illumi felt like the jock was on his side, rescuing him from a conversation closing in around him. "Or Gyro might here and come flying in."

Kurapika pretended to gag. They all laughed.

"Hey, Chrollo," said Hisoka, giving his sculpture an erection. "Where did Gyro take you? Which closet, I mean. He's stuck me in them before when I skipped class."

"The one at the end of the hall," Chrollo said. "Thankfully one of the cleaner ones."

That was certainly not an approved punishment. Illumi made a mental note to bring it up to his parents. Of course, approved punishments at this school were limited. At home, being locked in a closet was hardly any kind of punishment at all. He was forced to lie flat on his bed while Father delivered blow after blow to his backside, one for each question he missed, every exam he took. He tried to make Illumi do the same to Killua. He didn't, because Killua was a freshman now, but he did make him study an extra five minutes for each question.

"Are you here because you skipped class, Hisoka?" asked Kurapika. "Because, I can't lie, that seems pretty tame by your standards."

"You just wish you could be as unhinged as me. You're wrapped in chains of your own making, instead."

Kurapika rolled his eyes.

"No, I made one too many obscene jokes to Mr. Netero," said Hisoka. "The dude's got some seriously big dick energy, and I told him so. He didn't seem to take it as a compliment."

Illumi's mind soured with what he was imagining, even though he knew Mr. Netero would have been repulsed. "I'm guessing you've fucked lots of older people." _I don't approve_.

"And you've been beaten by lots of them," said Hisoka. "At least I got an orgasm out of them. You got bruises."

 _Excuse me?_ Illumi contemplated punching him. He could imagine it: Hisoka's nose cracking against his knuckles, his skin breaking, warm blood—

"Seems to me you got bruises too," Chrollo remarked."Just not visible ones."

"So," interjected Leorio, breaking up the tension. "Who here has the biggest dick energy? Gyro not included."

"Gyro has a micropenis; I've never seen it, but it is known," said Hisoka, plucking the last of the gum from his hair.

Chrollo snorted, blowing a giant bubble larger than the one Hisoka had made. And it didn't break on his face.

"And Illumi," Hisoka said. "Besides me, of course. _He_ has the biggest BDE."

 _Wait, what?_ "Huh?" Illumi stared.

"Well, it's obviously not the one whom I caught wanking off once," said Hisoka, nodding to Leorio. "Nor is it the edgelord who's trying too hard. So it's between you and Chrollo, but I've seen Chrollo shirtless and it leaves something to be desired, so I'm going with you. Plus you're so reserved—it's exciting. And creepy. But so many possibilities. What's under your skin?"

"You need Jesus," said Kurapika.

"I work out," Chrollo muttered sulkily.

Illumi just gaped. _Me?_ He'd never thought he had the most anything. He wasn't the heir. He wasn't smart enough, despite being the oldest. But of course it had to be some abstract joke. Hisoka probably didn't even mean it.

"I can't tell if you'd be robotic in bed, or kinky as fuck," said Hisoka.

"Too bad you'll never find out," Illumi responded. His heart pounded.

"Do you ever quit?" complained Leorio.

"Do you ever finish anything?"

Leorio ignored Hisoka, gaze lasering on Illumi. "If your parents kick the shit out of you, then can I ask why you do whatever they want?" His breath came ragged. "You seem like an okay guy here. Not like the puppet you seem like most of the time, despite Hisoka joking about it. Why aren't you trying to escape and take all your siblings with you? You could do it. I really think you could. You've got four of them depending on—"

Illumi shook his head. "Our parents are _good_ parents. They want the best for us." Dad said so. And in every aspect, Illumi was trying to imitate the man, even in growing his hair long like him. Even if his hair was dark and straight instead of silver and curly, like Dad's. Even if his eyes were wide and dark, like his mother's. _I want you to see you in me_. And he had to. Grandfather complimented Illumi. Even if Dad never said it, he had to realize it. Illumi might not have won the genetic lottery to be designated the heir but he was smart enough, he could make them proud, he was a child still worth having. _I deserve to exist. I'll prove it._

"The best?" Leorio cried out. "Killua's told us what they do to Alluka and to him and _all_ of you. Psychologically scarring all of you doesn't make you the best!"

"So what?" Illumi shot back. "At least they give a damn, unlike Hisoka's or Chrollo's, and Kurapika's died and left him." _Shit._

"Fuck off!" Kurapika shouted.

Illumi gazed around the room, taking in Chrollo's somber dark eyes, Leorio's angry, narrow ones, Kurapika's hurting scarlet ones, and Hisoka's inscrutable golden ones. "What about yours?" he eked out. "They aren't pushing you, right? So can you really say they care about you? They don't. If they did—"

"You have the world's most fucked up definition of caring," Leorio said. " _This_ is why I punched you in the face after you skipped class to yell at Killua. Because even though you were acting like there might be hope for you earlier, I understand why Killua is terrified of you. Thanks for reminding me why I dislike you."

"Killua is _not_ terrified of me!" Illumi protested. "I'm the one who used to chase nightmares away when we were kids, dammit, he—"

"If I may," said Chrollo. "You are _still_ kids."

"So your parents baby you?" Illumi had gotten to his feet. He remembered Gyro yanking Leorio away from Illumi, telling him that he would see him in detention that Saturday, and when Leorio blurted out that Illumi had skipped class to yell at his brother, well, Illumi then found himself joining him.

"I'm not the one who muttered 'okay, my parents will have something to say about this,' after Gyro sentenced you to this bloody detention," Leorio shot back. "But they didn't get you out of it, did they? Do they really care, then? Do they really want you to be the best? Can you rely on them for anything like they can rely on you, the perfect puppet?"

Illumi curled his fist. He took a step forward. _No_. Leorio Paladiknight was not worth his time. He inhaled. Exhaled. Tried to push his feelings out of his chest, down his arms and legs, out through his fingers and toes. "You're not worth it." He dropped down to the floor again. "Killua and my parents—my family—they're the ones who are worth it."

 _I can take all the blows, Dad._

 _I'm worth it. I'll do better. But because I failed, I'll show you I can make it up. I can. I can._

"Don't you give a damn what Killua wants?" Kurapika demanded.

"You're one to talk," said Illumi. "Aren't you making every decision based on what you think your dead parents would want?"

Kurapika blanched. Hisoka's eyebrows flew up. Chrollo's jaw fell open.

"Killua won't be happy without the family," said Illumi. "He has to know we love him. I love him. I want the best for him, like our parents want the best for all of us, but they entrusted him to me, so—" Fuck, fuck, this sensation gripped him in his chest and it wouldn't leave, it wouldn't even _budge_.

"To you?" Leorio swallowed. "What would have happened if they found out Killua's been spending more time with Gon, and with me and Kurapika? To you?"

"It'd be my failing them," Illumi said. His voice cracked. "I won't fail them. I never have. It's not that you are bad people. I don't think you are bad people. You're almost fun, today. It's just that in our family, we have a lot to live up to. Please understand. The Zoldyck name and reputation, and Killua's the best of us. They had us all tested for our IQs, and his is the highest in four generations. He doesn't need friends. He just needs his family. Skipping homework time and study sessions to be with you two, Kurapika and Leorio, and that Gon, are just—"

"May I make a small observation?" said Hisoka.

"Good grief, he's actually asking," mumbled Chrollo.

"Killua hates you."

The stiff air in his chest solidified into rocks. He couldn't breathe. Illumi's stomach churned. "He does not," he eked out.

 _Killua hates. You._

 _Killua hates. You._

 _Killua. Hates. You. Killua hates you. Killua hates you hates you hates hates hates you you you Killua—_

"Yes, he does," Hisoka said.

"Oh, shut up!" said Kurapika.

"Fuck off," said Chrollo.

 _"I_ hate you!" The shout ripped from Illumi's throat. His shoulders shook.

"No, you don't. You hate yourself. And you know it's true. You keep trying to tell yourself you're fine, _just fine,_ but the reality is you know no one loves you except Killua maybe once, and now he hates you, and no matter what you do you can't be enough for him. The Zoldyck family isn't his whole world and it isn't yours either, but you keep thinking it can be because you're desperate to be enough for your parents. It's a baby's logic."

"Blocking him from friends is really not gonna help Killua want to be close to you," admitted Leorio.

"Shut the fuck up!" Illumi yelled.

"You're afraid that you can't make it on your own," Hisoka continued. "That you're not a full person without the _Zoldyck_ part of your name. That just _Illumi_ isn't enough. Which I guess makes sense given that your mom like shiratori named you all. Illu _MI_ llu _KI_ llu _A_ llu _KA_ lluto. Are any of you individual people or are you all interconnected tools?"

"We're people, and what would you know about it? You have no system and no family to call your own. You are just a loose cannon without anyone to control, without anyone to care about because you care about no one!" Illumi shot back.

"You pretend you don't care about anything," said Chrollo, and Illumi had no idea which of them he was talking to. "But you do care. You care a lot."

"Oh look, the pot calling the kettle black," Hisoka taunted. "You're the one who pretends to be an outcast of society but creates a pseudo-family all centered around him. If you really were an outcast you'd be me. Jealous?"

Every eye turned to Chrollo, but Illumi's mind retreated to himself standing outside Killua's door, knocking and knocking last night, but his brother didn't let him in.

 _Killua._

 _Please._

His gaze passed from face to face, and he felt his throat closing up.

 _I can be an outcast so long as I have my family._

 _They want me, right?_

 _Why didn't you get me out of this?_

 _Killua, why didn't you open the door?_

 _Why were my IQ scores too low? Why do I have black hair and big dark eyes? Why am I built less like a linebacker? Why am I me?_

* * *

"I am _not_ jealous of a psychotic clown," Chrollo retorted. He flicked a speck of dust off his dark pants. Shit, Hisoka was at his best and worst today. This was why Chrollo had invited him to hang out with the Phantom Troupe. He could read people like a book.

"Ableism alert," sang Hisoka.

The first time he met Hisoka, he spotted the man sneaking through the air vents in the school after hours. Chrollo and his friends were there to steal some of the jewelry Mr. Nostrade had been storing in his desk after buying them for his daughter Neon. And he knew instantly that Hisoka was trying to get close to them for some reason, even if he didn't know quite what it was. And Chrollo admired that. Because lurking on the outskirts, slinking along in curiosity, and then being completely free to still mock them and tease Machi, as Hisoka had—that was something Chrollo respected, and knew, only it was the alleys of Meteor City instead of the air vents of the school.

"You're envious all the time," Illumi said to Chrollo. "Thief." Clearly he was eager just for another target in the group, since he looked like he was about to burst into tears.

"I'm aware I'm a thief," Chrollo responded. Words could never hurt him.

"And no remorse?" Kurapika burst out. "Don't you get it? The things you steal—"

Oh great, here they went. Chrollo wanted to blow Hisoka up right now. Of course he would start in on Chrollo just when they were all getting along and he was getting to laugh with the beautiful blonde with a 4.0. "Are just things," Chrollo cut in. "Some have, some don't, and some never have ever had anything. So what if I steal? You've had so much given to—" He was grasping at straws.

"The earring you stole from my locker?" Kurapika burst out. He tugged at the solitary gold and ruby piece dangling from his ear. "It was my mother's. And her mother's. And her mother's before her. _And they're all dead."_

"So—"

"So, it's not like you would understand, I guess," Kurapika snapped. His chest rose and fell. His breaths came harsh. "Because you don't understand that being able to remember the people you love, the people you've lost—"

"The people you want to join?" Chrollo burst out.

Kurapika stiffened.

"Don't act so innocent. I saw the noose in your locker," Chrollo said, looking at Leorio as he spoke to Kurapika. _Do you know your tragic hero wannabe is suicidal?_ "And I did the responsible thing and told Gyro, after you turned me in for stealing. Tell me, where were you planning on hanging yourself at this school? The library balcony, right here? One of the stairwells?"

 _"What are you doing?" Kurapika's voice had broken into Chrollo's world after he shut the locker door, earring in his pocket and the vision of the noose swimming through his mind. "Hey! Get back here! Thief!"_

 _Chrollo had run. But he hadn't gotten far. And when Gyro called him to the office, Chrollo told him. "School looks like it's about to lose its best student. Considering he's got a noose in his locker. Maybe it was destiny I looked in there today."_

 _And Gyro's face drained, and he swore at Chrollo, but he did send the secretary to check and then Kurapika wound up in Gyro's office, guilty party instead of victim, and Chrollo wanted to scream because of course this fucking school would fault a suicidal kid instead of calling a psychiatrist or his parents._ Though, he hadn't known at the time that there weren't parents to call, not for Kurapika.

Leorio turned to Kurapika. His face was ashen.

"Fuck you!" Kurapika screamed. Chrollo stiffened.

"You were going to what?" eked out Illumi.

"I wasn't really going to! I just—" Kurapika hurled the Bungee Gum wrapper at Chrollo. "Fuck you," he said again. Tears streamed down his face.

"No one wants you to die," Chrollo said. "You're welcome."

"Don't kill yourself; that'd be a waste," Hisoka said.

"Like you're any different! You just want to live hard and die young!" Kurapika flipped him off.

"Kurapika," Leorio said quietly.

"I wasn't really going—I mean—" Kurapika pulled his knees to his chest. "I miss them so much. I miss them. I miss their laughs, and I miss their nagging, and I miss—I miss—" His voice broke.

To love someone that much… Chrollo couldn't even imagine. He'd never known his father. His mother, he lost when he was so young. He didn't remember her very much; in the brief snapshots he had, her face was always blurred. "It's not your fault they're dead," Chrollo said. "You know." He thought of his mother. She ditched him before she died. He thought so, anyways.

"I don't think it is. It was an accident."

"So, you're alive, so why not act like it?" Chrollo demanded. "You have opportunities I never had, so why are you—"

"Don't make me out to be some spoiled rich—"

"Well, that's what—"

"You and I are nothing alike, so why—"

"Hilariously," said Hisoka. "I think you're the same person. Chrollo's family ditched him so he's getting back at the universe by gathering his gang. Someday he'll lose some members and trust me, Kurapika, he's not going to respond any better."

"Is that a threat?" Chrollo demanded. Fury surged through him.

Hisoka's lips curved, as if Chrollo had just proved his point. "What on earth," said Hisoka. "Are you even doing, besides collecting trophies from lives you never had, and selling them to get as close to that life as you could?"

Chrollo's throat went dry. _Go to hell,_ he thought, but he couldn't even form the words.

"Don't die," said Leorio.

"Don't die," Chrollo managed. He could at least say that.

"Don't die," Illumi said. Hell.

"Don't die," said Hisoka. "There, a perfect circle." His lips puckered as if something was bothering him. Most likely that Chrollo didn't feel like eviscerating him right back. He just wanted to talk to everyone here. He'd shown up to do just that.

"Is that really why you are here, Chrollo?" Illumi asked. Bless him. "Breaking into his locker, and Kurapika for having the noose?"

"Don't pretend you care," said Hisoka. "You're just finding out how Kurapika is messed up so you can report to your parents and they can use it as a reason Killua can spend no time with him anymore. And you, Chrollo, you don't want anything besides everyone to hate you, because you think you're better than everyone else so they all must either hate or love you. You pretend like you're a phantom slipping through this school, but if you really thought that of yourself you wouldn't be trying to hard to wreck everything. You're already a ghost. Kurapika just wants to be like you, really: dead inside."

"You're a goddamn bitch!" Chrollo shouted. _And you're ruining everything!_

"You know, for all you think that you have to earn things, Kurapika has the same line of thinking as you and Illumi," Hisoka said to him. "Earn, earn, earn. You can't fucking earn anything. No matter how good you are or how smart or how capable, Illumi's parents are always going to love him less than they love Killua, and Kurapika's parents will still be dead, and you will still be a brat born in Meteor City. All you are accomplishing is pushing Killua away when he might actually care about you, or did once, and Kurapika's ignoring his family and friends who remain because he's too sad over his poor dead parents, and you, Chrollo, you're just ensuring that you can't ever leave where you were born because you don't want to. You're a big coward who masquerades as a capable big bad thief. You don't want to make your own decisions in life."

"Go to hell!" all three of them yelled.

"Jesus," complained Leorio, massaging his temples.

"And what about you?" Illumi asked, voice shaking.

"Huh?" Hisoka tilted his head back. He snapped his gum.

 _"What about you?"_ Illumi repeated, eyes dark. "You, who's in here for telling obscene jokes. You, who tried to turn yourself into Gyro and Pariston's target of the day. You, who got us all to sneak up so you could show us your favorite candy and childhood toy. You, who suggested we all come up here and talk. You, who dress in that ridiculous outfit. You just want someone to notice you, don't you?"

Hisoka's jaw dropped. It took him several seconds to speak. "Fuck you."

"No," said Illumi. "Fuck _you_ , Hisoka. All you've done is make sure all of us are pissed off at you. If you wind up all alone, it'll be your fault, and that's how you'd like it, wouldn't you? Because you think you're better than everyone else and you want to prove it. In reality, you're not. And you also know you're not. You know you're trash and you want to pretend you can enjoy something in life before you die. You're just as suicidal as Kurapika."

"I like you, Illumi," Chrollo said. "Join my group sometime."

Kurapika arched his eyebrows. "You all suck." The words sounded broken instead of haughty.

Hisoka just sat there, no reaction on his face, no side rage or laughter. Chrollo folded in on himself. "I suppose we do all suck."

Illumi managed a small laugh.

"Hooray," said Leorio. "The Suckage Club."

Kurapika almost smiled.

 _None of us are better than the others_. Except perhaps Leorio.

 _Why are we even alive?_

 _I wish… I wish I had people to mourn like you do, Kurapika. I wish._

He'd always been wishing. Each turn of a page was a wish, despite knowing that the ends to every book he read were fixed.

 _I don't know how to live_. Chrollo got to his feet. "I should go back to my closet. Only about an hour left." He paused by Kurapika, reaching down and tapping him on the shoulder.

Kurapika looked up at him.

"Here," said Chrollo, digging into his pocket. He held it out in the palm of his hand.

The other earring.

"I knew they were your mother's," Chrollo said softly. "I heard you telling Gon as much." _And I wished. I wished._ "I didn't know she was gone, though."

Kurapika gaped up at him. His face grayed.

 _What, I'm more callous than you thought?_ He reached down, grabbing Kurapika's hand. He pressed the earring into it.

"See you Monday."


	4. I Care

"Are any of us actually going to write that paper?" asked Illumi. Hisoka drummed his fingers on the table.

Everyone's head swiveled to Leorio. His jaw fell open. "Why me?"

"Because we'd all say the same thing," replied Kurapika. "Though, I can do it, I—"

"Nah," said Leorio. "I'll do it." He squeezed Kurapika's shoulder.

Kurapika hesitated, and then got back up. "I'll be back."

Hisoka thought about taunting Kurapika since he had a pretty good idea where he was going, but he clamped his mouth shut. His teeth ground into each other.

 _You want to pretend you'll enjoy something in life before you die_. Hisoka scowled. He enjoyed plenty in life. Like the blond girl, or like the man with the largest appendage he'd ever seen. Hisoka hopped to his feet.

"Where are you off to now?" Illumi called.

"Returning Lucilfer's books," Hisoka called, gesturing to the books still strewn across his desk. The taste of Bungee Gum was long gone, but he still chewed it, like he did as a kid. It reminded him he had something in his mouth, his stomach had options, he didn't need taste to imagine it. He grabbed the books and stalked off towards the shelves. He put _Les Miserables_ by Hugo with the D's, _Silence_ by Endo with the Z's, and _The Prince_ by Machiavelli with the Qs. There. A librarian wouldn't have a boring day… some day. Whenever they realized the mix-up.

"Satisfied?" asked Illumi's voice behind him. "Created enough chaos for today?"

Hisoka blinked. It was hella hard to startle him. _Well done, Illumi_. He turned, slouching against the bookshelves. "Here to return them to order?" He winked.

"No," said Illumi. "I'll let you have your fun."

"Oh, thank you, Your Highness."

"You're welcome."

Illumi didn't seem to react to the sarcasm. Hisoka snorted. "Daddy coming to pick you up?"

"Business trip," Illumi reminded him. "I imagine my grandfather will come. And you?"

"I'll walk… somewhere. A bar, maybe. Find someone to have sex with. And you'll go home and beg your brother to pay you some attention, but he won't care because you're just like your parents to him, treating him like a tool and completely oblivious that he's not the cure for your own loneliness."

"What is the cure, then?" Illumi demanded. His chest heaved. "Going out and getting laid by a stranger?"

Hisoka smirked. He ran his fingers across the wooden shelves. Dust coated the tips. "What makes you assume I'm not the one doing the laying?"

Illumi put his hands on his hips. "I don't really care about your positional preferences."

"Shame." Hisoka tugged at Illumi's hair. "Tell me, then why are you over here except to explore that? Or are you just desperate to talk to someone who doesn't look at you like you're a failure compared to Killua? Because maybe I will flirt with Killua—he's a freshman, a little young, but he's clearly better looking and smarter than you—"

Illumi's eyes sparked. His fist shot out.

 _Finally,_ Hisoka thought as Illumi's knuckles smashed into his cheekbone. Blood spurted from his nose. He slung his arms towards Illumi. Illumi jabbed him in the back of the knees. With his foot. Hisoka stumbled. And that was all it took for His head to smash into the bookshelf, two books crashing onto his neck.

Illumi flipped him around. He sat on Hisoka's midsection, hands pressing into Hisoka's shoulder, pinning him down.

"Jealous older brother much?" Hisoka croaked.

"You weren't fighting to your full strength," Illumi accused. His hair fell around his face, a silken onyx curtain.

"I was kinda surprised," Hisoka managed. He spat droplets of blood.

"You could come home with me," Illumi said. "Instead of going to some stranger's bed."

"Huh?" Hisoka's eyes popped.

"That was your aim, wasn't it?" Illumi asked. "Don't worry, I've no interest in your seduction technique."

"Says the man sitting on top of my crotch like he's riding me when he's already got a boner," Hisoka said.

Illumi's face burned.

"To be fair then," panted Hisoka. "You are someone I targeted, right? Not some random—"

"Do you have to phrase it like that?" Illumi cussed. "I _noticed_ you. And you noticed me."

"Huh?" Hisoka blinked.

"You didn't have to do all of this," said Illumi. "You could have just asked."

"Are you going to start making sense sometime soon or are you just going to—"

"You never make sense," Illumi said, staring. His eyes were dark and huge. And then he leaned down.

Hisoka opened his mouth instinctively, but Illumi paused about a centimeter from his lips, studying him. "Oh, for real?" Hisoka complained.

Illumi dove down, pressing his lips against his. Hisoka arched up, opening Illumi's mouth with his. He reached up, digging his hands through Illumi's hair which fell like satin against his fingers. Illumi's teeth clacked against his, like a desperate man.

"You're so goddamn lonely," Hisoka eked out. "It's almost pathetic." _And you're bleeding, just like me._ He wrapped Illumi's hair around his palm. It felt soft.

"You're so desperate for acknowledgement that you're here," Illumi retorted, pulling back, lips shining and swollen. "So—"

"I don't actually like Killua," said Hisoka. "That was just a comment to piss you off."

Illumi tilted his head back.

"I like _you_ , dimwit," snapped Hisoka. God, why was he making him say it?

"If I hadn't offered to take you home with me—"

"I would fuck you right here and right now, without any place to stay," Hisoka said. "Because you're—interesting."

"Do you have any other way to show affection?" Illumi complained.

"There is another way?"

Illumi rolled his eyes. He sat back, cross-legged.

"I'd talk to you," said Hisoka. "Any time. And tell off your parents."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like how they treat you. You're strong and yet you pretend you're not, around them."

Illumi tilted his head back, hair cascading down his back. "I'm strongest around them. I think."

"You're honest when you're not around them."

"Says a liar." Illumi swallowed.

Hisoka sat up. "Can I try something?"

Illumi glanced back towards where the desks were.

"Not sex," said Hisoka. "Just—something sexy."

Illumi nodded.

Hisoka leaned in, but instead of taking Illumi's lips, he focused on his neck, that marble pillar cloaked in black curtains. His teeth nipped at the soft skin. He took Illumi's skin in his mouth. Illumi's chest rose and fell in pants. He laced his arms around Hisoka.

"We should probably go back," Illumi managed when Hisoka finally drew back.

Hisoka nodded. He grabbed Illumi's hair, tossing it in front of the maroon bruise. "By the way," he said.

"Yeah?" Illumi looked back at him, getting to his feet.

"I noticed you too, is all," Hisoka said, climbing up. He tossed the books that had fallen back onto a random shelf. "Your family is made of idiots. Well, your parents. Killua seems cool, though again, calm down, not like that."

Illumi blinked.

 _"You don't deserve this,"_ Hisoka translated, yanking up Illumi's sleeve and tapping the three round bruises he saw there, as if someone had grabbed Illumi too hard a day or two ago. _But you need to believe it's all for your good. To make it, don't you?_ _Because you're afraid your can't do it on your own. You're weak._

 _What if you had someone else to remind you?_

"You shouldn't be sleeping with random people who are taking advantage of you," Illumi responded. "If you want to feel or be safe or have fun, call me instead."

Hisoka had no idea what it was like to be alive except to be hurt and to hurt.

 _You're the same._

He also had no idea what it was like to be alive and not be lonely.

"You can stay the night," Illumi said. "In our guest room. They'll behave, if you're there. My grandfather can help you. He's nice. He doesn't hit me. Or any of us."

"But he doesn't help you," Hisoka pointed out. _You'd really let me stay for no cost? Does that mean you kissed me because you just wanted to? Because I'm_ me?

 _Why would you? Don't pity me._

"You do," Illumi said. "You're strong. You can still laugh."

 _Strong_.

 _And I don't have to prove it?_

He leaned his head down, resting it on Illumi's shoulder, breathing in the scent of his too-expensive cologne. Illumi wrapped his arms around him.

 _Maybe, right now, I can be weak._ Maybe strength and weakness were not two opposites like he'd assumed, but yin and yang, pulling and filling each other.

 _And you. I'll get you out of there. Somehow. The two of us together... we're strong.  
_

* * *

Kurapika slipped through the hallway, pausing outside the door to the closet. He raised his fist as if to knock. _Wait, what am I doing?_ What would be the point in that, besides alerting the human ant of a vice principal?

He shoved the door open to find Chrollo rummaging through the drawers of a random dresser stores in there. Kurapika's eyebrows shot up. "Stealing anything interesting?"

"Mostly just old letters and bank statements," Chrollo responded, pulling back. He rested his arm on his knee. "Surprised to see you here."

"No, you aren't. Don't lie. You're hard to surprise." Kurapika shut the door behind him. His heart pounded. His palms felt slick with sweat. He tilted his head back, blond hair falling over his shoulder.

"You're not wearing the second one," Chrollo pointed out, gesturing. "I mean. Your earring."

Kurapika tugged at the earring in his ear. "Why did you take it, if you knew?"

"I'm a malicious bastard, remember? The devil to your angel? Isn't that how you see it?" Chrollo slouched back. He kicked his legs out in front of him, crossing them.

"I don't believe that." Kurapika dropped down to the concrete floor. He plucked a pebble from the ground and tossed it at Chrollo.

"Ow," Chrollo said flatly.

"Tell me, or I'm not leaving."

"It doesn't matter."

"It does too," said Kurapika.

"I didn't know how important—or that they were dead—I just thought they were your mother's and she'd lent them to you, so—"

"Why only take one when both of them were still in there?" Kurapika narrowed his eyes.

Chrollo's face was flushed. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Making me squirm?"

"You look quite still to me." Kurapika gritted his teeth. "No. I'm not enjoying this. I genuinely don't understand. I have no idea why you would do it and I can't make sense of any of your actions and—"

"I took it planning to give it back to you in—"

"Oh, that's real believable—"

"—because—"

"You don't think I didn't notice you following me after classes or—"

"I—"

"You were always interrupting me in philosophy and that hasn't stopped so—"

"Would you just let me—"

"Why don't you just tell me what it is about—"

"—I thought you were interesting, okay? Until you threw a giant hissy fit when you caught me breaking into your locker. You had good ideas in class."

"Huh?" Kurapika gaped. From his recollection, Chrollo never once raised his hand in their philosophy class.

"I thought you were interesting," Chrollo repeated. "So I looked through your locker. And I planned to give that back to you—"

"Then why did you take it?" Kurapika demanded.

"So I could return it and then have a reason to talk to you—"

"You could have just come up and said hello!"

"I wasn't sure you were interesting or not! And when you threw a fit I found out you definitely—"

"Weren't?" Kurapika said sarcastically.

"On the contrary," Chrollo replied. "You are, but you hate yourself. You cannot fathom the idea that someone might find you interesting, might find anything valuable about you. There are unopened notes at the bottom of your locker that your friends have slipped through the slats. I'd bet good money Leorio was motivated to confront Illumi and get a detention not just for Killua's sake, but because he wanted the chance to talk to you, too."

"That's—that's—pathological!" Kurapika sputtered.

Chrollo craned his neck back. "Why? How? Do you know the definition of the word? There's no lengths your friends wouldn't go to for you. They like you."

"Of course, but—they're—what are you even—" Kurapika curled his fists. He didn't understand. Why wouldn't Leorio just—

Okay, maybe he had ignored a text or two. Or. Five. His shoulders slumped. "If you wanted to tell me I'm a bad friend, why didn't you do it when everyone was skewering each other up there?"

"We weren't skewering each other," said Chrollo. "We were—lancing boils."

Kurapika's nose wrinkled. A snort emerged from his mouth. Chrollo laughed.

Kurapika pinched his earring.

"Has it always been like this?" Chrollo asked. "Or just since—your parents?"

"It doesn't matter."

"I think it does."

"Why?" Kurapika met his eyes. He knew his must be red again, and he didn't feel the need to disguise them. Chrollo hadn't run away screaming, and he didn't seem like he wanted to kill him as a monster for the genes he had been born with. "Why do you even care? I've been nothing but—"

Chrollo blinked. "You still don't get it?"

"Get what?"

"I—" Chrollo covered his mouth and blew through his fingers. "You really don't. Good grief."

"Stop—"

"I like you," Chrollo blurted out, removing his fingers from his face. "Okay? I like you. _I have a crush on you."_ He screwed up his face as if in pain admitting that.

Kurapika's mouth hung open. He wasn't certain he was breathing. His teeth felt dry. "Wh-what?"

Chrollo frowned. "Do you still not—"

"No, I get it, I just—no. I don't get it. Why would you have a crush on me? After everything?"

"I mean, I considered not after we wound up in detention, but your eyes—and the way you let Hisoka have it back there—I find you intriguing." Chrollo swallowed.

"Oh." He had no way to process this information. Kurapika shook his head. "I'm not."

"Well, you're not God, so you don't get to determine what I do and do not find interesting."

"And you?" Kurapika asked, forcing himself to look at him. He was nothing more than someone who couldn't even keep up with his friends, with dead parents, who was always escaping unscathed from accidents like the one that blinded the cousin he lived with now as a child, the murderers who attacked his parents—there had to be a reason he was still alive, but it shouldn't be a very long life because he didn't deserve it while they—while they— "You—could have just asked—instead of stealing—"

"You're saying you'd have given me the time of day? Knowing what everyone says about me, which is mostly true?"

"Yes," Kurapika said, staring at him. "I would have."

"I don't know how to do that," Chrollo whispered. "I've never—in Meteor City, you take what you can get, or you get nothing at all."

Kurapika lowered his chin to his chest. "I'm sorry."

Chrollo shrugged.

"Don't shrug," said Kurapika. "If something matters to you, why don't you just do something about it? Admit it, go for it? You're mad at hisoka for exposing who you are back there, aren't you? For proving you can't do it on your own? Well, in truth, that made you a lot more interesting to me—and—"

 _You'd still admit you like me? Even after I—after I—_

 _I'm trash._

"Fair," Chrollo admitted.

Kurapika hesitated. He crouched down next to Chrollo. "Do you have something you want to ask me?" His pulse hammered.

Chrollo stared at him, eyes widening. "I—"

 _Do you want to ask me out? If so, do it._

 _Or do you not want to? I wouldn't blame you._

"Can I kiss you?" Chrollo asked.

Kurapika's eyes bulged. He hadn't expected that.

"Sorry," Chrollo said quickly.

"No," said Kurapika, thinking. "I mean, no, it's okay. Yes, you can kiss me." What was he doing? He'd never been kissed before.

"Are you sure?" Chrollo asked.

Kurapika nodded. He met Chrollo's eyes. Chrollo's fingers came towards him, brushing his sockets. "I've never seen eyes so beautiful. Red, or not red. They're not monstrous."

 _But I am._

Chrollo leaned in, cupping Kurapika's chin. His eyes searched Kurapika's, as if looking for a definitive _yes_.

 _You really don't think I am a monster._

 _Well, I don't think you're worthless either._

Chrollo's lips closed over his, soft. His lip broke through Kurapika's, opening his mouth. Kurapika leaned in. He didn't know if he was using the right amount of tongue, but he knew Chrollo was warm against him. He wrapped an arm around the back of Chrollo's head, fingers combing through his unkempt hair. Chrollo's arms encircled him. He pressed deeper, deeper, and Kurapika pressed back.

Chrollo broke the kiss finally, panting. He rested his head on Kurapika's shoulder.

"Do you want to go on an actual date sometime?" Kurapika mumbled.

Chrollo snorted. He looked up, and his eyes—they were a dark umber, and they were sparkling, like sun-kissed earth after rain. "Yes."

Kurapika hesitated, and then hooked the earring Chrollo had given him back in his ear. "Thank you for giving it back."

"I am truly sorry."

"I believe you." Kurapika squeezed Chrollo's hands. "See you outside?"

Chrollo nodded. Kurapika closed the closet door, scuttling back to the library.

"Well, there's pep in your step," sang Hisoka.

Kurapika shrugged. He smiled at Leorio.

"And your hair is mussed and your lips are—dear God, do you still have that box of condoms? Maybe it was a good thing—"

Kurapika hurled the box at Hisoka. "It's unopened, dirtbag."

"Thank God," said Hisoka, heaving a fake sigh of relief. Kurapika squinted. Was that a hickey on Illumi's neck?

"Well," said Leorio. "What happened?"

"I have a date this week," Kurapika admitted. He covered his smile.

Leorio tugged his hands down. "It's good to see you smiling."

Kurapika rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Leorio."

"Welcome."

"Kurapika," called a voice. He turned to see Illumi clasping his hands together. "And Leorio. I will—not interfere with you and Killua anymore. I think—you can be good for him. Just—can you please—not talk too harshly about me?" His shoulders slumped.

"Depends," said Leorio.

"I see no reason to be harsh on you," said Kurapika. _If Chrollo wasn't harsh on me, and vice versa._

Illumi's face lit up. He almost looked like Killua for a moment, despite the opposite coloring.

"By the way," asked Hisoka. "Leorio. What'd you write for the essay?"

"That it didn't matter who we thought we were," Leorio said. " _We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us—in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain and an athlete, and a clown, a prince, and a criminal._ "

"I like that," Illumi proclaimed, and he and Leorio exchanged a smile. Kurapika felt hope. Maybe Illumi would work with them to help get his siblings free. They'd all help him, because Killua was their friend. And his hand was clasped with Hisoka's.

"Me too," agreed Hisoka.

Leorio rubbed the back of his neck. He smirked.

And Kurapika understood. Gyro and Pariston were people who had the opportunity to help the bleeding, and locked them up expecting them to tear each other apart. And then there were people like Leorio, who maybe couldn't relate, but allowed all four of them to bleed all over him and found that, in the end, they could be weak and strong and rebellious and controlled, and all those aspects could be knit back together, bandaged, and they all had the tools to do it just because they were breathing and human and looking, looking, looking for that healing. _You are a doctor already._

"Oh," said Leorio. "I took some inspiration from Chrollo for the last line."

"Do tell," said Hisoka.

Leorio held it up.

It said, _GO FUCK YOURSELF._

"Fits," Kurapika agreed.


End file.
